Dust
by Eyespye
Summary: Umi's reminiscing with an old friend, and the subject of romance comes up, not directly involving Clef or Ascot. A few mild/offensive swears, one-sided shoujo-ai. Yes, as in girl+girl. Kind of weird, almost abstract. Rating should be fine if you're not of


Dust

A Magic Knight Rayearth Fanfic by Eyespye

Disclaimer: Does this happen in the series? No. If I had three more people who worked with me, I just might have a chance in a kazillion of being CLAMP. Seriously, I'm borrowing the characters for my own sadistic purposes They'll be returned in three pieces or less, two being the broken remnants of their hearts and the other being the body said heart was torn from. Err…I don't have problems, really I don't. -.-

Shoujo-ai. What could be considered OOC-ness Oh, yeah, and a slight potty-mouth. *Gasp!* Yes, a girl looking at a girl with romantic interest, and a few bad words. If that bothers you, inane musing bothers you, Umi not being directly paired with Clef or Ascot bothers you, or secondary characters actually getting their say bothers you, might I direct you to the "Back" button that is at the top of your browser, or the links back to the main page, Anime and Rayearth sections. Most of them are not just there to look pretty. If such things do bother, you can't say I didn't warn you, and don't come whining to me. 

Notes: This is odd. I have no idea where it came from. Or, well, yes I do. The deprived pits of my mind. I have a sandworm in there to feed, you know. Sigh. I like it, but I don't like it, all at the same time. It's good and all, I just think I could have done better. And I think a lot o people are going to chuck flammable, rotten fruit at me. This was a random idea. I am a random idea myself, so it's mandatory, right? Anyway, feedback is very much welcome, as is constructive criticism. That would be actually finding something that needs improving and pointing it out to improve skills, perhaps give suggestions on how to improve, _not_ pointing and laughing and going "haha, that sucked." Okay, I'll shut up now. I hope the story keeps you entertained for it's three minute duration. 

(The song quotes in the beginning sort of annoy me…I just like the first two lines, and they look out of place alone.)

**Dust**

  


_nothing's changed,   
you're the same.   
are you willing to walk the dust?_

  
  
  


I have no idea why I even bother **doing this**.

  


It's been years and years and it's hard to think we even keep in touch. It takes weeks to get to either place and the visits last mere hours, but I can't **complain** because we might even have to cut it into something **long-distance**.

"Are you sure you want to talk to her alone?" 'Nee-sama asks from the corner, where's she's sat gingerly on the end of a desk so she doesn't get covered in **dust**. Speaking of which, we don't even bother to rag half of the palace anymore because the **dust** just gets everywhere again. It **clings**, too; it **grows on you**.

"Yes," I manage, though my **throat** is a constricted hollow. She stands up and walks over and ruffles my hair before kissing my forehead. And I can't stop feeling like a **little kid with a crush**.

"You're very brave," She says, smiling sweetly. Most of the time I'm glad she's the older sister. She's so much **better** than I am, and therefore she deserves everything a million times more.

She moves towards the door, when it opens to reveal our head of transportation, some portly little black-haired **bastard**. "Hime-tachi, the Magic Knight's ship has arrived."

"Thank you," my sister dismisses him kindly just as said Magic Knight dashes in, face slightly flushed and her breathing off-pattern, though still **smiling** like there's nothing else in the world. 

"Tatra!" She practically throws herself at my sister, hugging her tightly. "It's been so long!" Yeah, it has. I only half hear what the two of them say, though the conversation lasts only a minute. Finally, they stop for a moment, though the nearly bubbly laughter continues for some time.

"I'd best leave you two now, huh?" 'Nee-sama smiles and I'm so certain she's going to ask her **why**, but she doesn't, and I still feel like I'm a **little girl** again, only in a **bad** way. 

And now I have to put up with something **beautiful** looking at me for hours and not **letting it slip.**

"So," I say, losing an accent- (Or gaining one- it depends on how you **look at it**, I guess.)- and passing her a drink. "Ya gonna sit down an' say hello or stand there all day?"

Though I wouldn't **mind**, of course. I'd rather have her **standing** there forever instead of **sitting** and having to go home.

  


We sit and talk for what **seems** forever, her pausing at every opportunity to refill her glass. It worries me. She never used to strike me as someone so dedicated to her liquor. But she seems **sane** and **sober** as she continues her relay of recent events in Cephiro, from one of the other Knights' marriage to the Prince (though I know neither of them well, I'm still happy for them. Finding a requited love is near **impossible** in this world.) to the adventurous, somewhat annoying romps of children about the castle. There are plenty of children to go around there, I'm quite sure. Caldina must have three or so by now, and the girl who could have been the Pillar has one too, if I remember correctly. Maybe **she** has one, and she's just not telling me.

I lean forward, the back of my hand cradling my chin haphazardly. "Ya'ven't changed a bit," I say, so terrified I'll word something **wrong**-or is it **right**?- and let it slip. But I'm lying. Of course she's changed. I can't see it, but she has. 

She shakes her head, but she leans forward too. **Damn**. Her smile widens and she winks, head tilting and hair falling about her perfect face. I nearly **swoon**, and I would were it not **inappropriate** and **uncharacteristic**.

"Everybody changes," she replies with some odd, unfinished finality. "Everybody, everything." The sweetness in her expression fades as she retreats once more, taking the opportunity to pour herself another glass. I pull back as well, letting my gaze trace the frosted window. We have such a **sad** country, I realize for the **thousandth** time, all it is is **dust**.

And my thoughts are gone because she's talking again. She tips her chair back on two legs and I'm still stunned into a brittle silence. But now she talks of love. Just **wonderful**. I still can't give anything away. 

Her chatting is amiable, oblivious, as she waves her hands erratically, relaying her **perfect** model of a lover. It's the usual of course. Cute, trustworthy and able to confide in, a good listener, someone who is great in bed but will also love her forever. Every sentence begins with a **he**. 

I want to say that I could be all that. That I can be everything she needs and wants. But I won't bother because **I can't**.

**Never**.

"Hey," she's still talking. I try not to break and listen at the same time. "What do you want in your special someone?"

I find it hilarious that no one ever mentions gender when they ask about **true love**, though they never expect the person on the receiving end of the question to truly have a backwards orientation. Maybe **we- we** being all us **gay people**, you understand- have them all fooled.

I wasn't even the first to figure out I was **abnormal**. I think it was 'nee-sama. She asks like that too, but she's smart enough to actually think about the person on the other end. Caldina figured it out a while ago, (I can't even remember how she came to grow so close to us, anyway) even though my **parents** have no clue. It's amazing how much they really **know** about their children. And I didn't even really think about how I felt until I met **her**. **Bitch**.

But then I realize that **she** is asking **me**, and I have no idea how to word it without being obvious. 

"Umm..."I pause for what I hope is a dramatic, contemplative sigh, not some terrified gasp. "Ah always though' Ah'd like ta be with someone like me." Wince. If my 'nee-sama could only hear my accent now. "Ya know, there'd be lotsa arguments an' stuff, but 'd be like havin' someone ta understand me an' m'emotions." And how I wish she'd **understand**.

She smiles again and I do **swoon**, shutting my mouth quickly and burying myself in my wine to stop it. It's only my second and a half glass, unlike her five, though it's not very strong. She doesn't seem to notice, just speaking in the crystal voice. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea. Opposites attract, right? Therefore, I'm sure similars do too!"

And she reaches out to take **my hands** in **hers**. She feels so soft and sweet and **open** and **perfect**. And I'm going to pass **out** , I'm going to pass **out**. I'm going to pass **out** if she doesn't let go or do **something**, because all I can think about is **her** and her **eyes** and her **touch** and the way it would feel if she **really understood**.

But she's so close and I can feel her **breath** on me and it hurts and it feels so **wonderful** and I want-

"I'm sure you'll find the perfect match, just like all of us have." As fast as it came, it's gone again. She's still smiling so neatly, her teeth two **straight ivory rows** beyond** lips** I shouldn't concentrate on. It shows in my face, I'm **sure **of it and she's sure of it too and she even tries to ask. "Are you alright? You look so upset." And she **gasps** and looks so worried but I know she hasn't really got it right. "Are you thinking about someone? Did they hurt you?" Oh. **Damn**. Maybe she does. But not the way she **thinks**. She looks so worried, so **concerned**, the hypocrite.

I have to wet my lips looking at her, and I don't want to tell her the **truth**. But I'm not sure if it is the **truth**, or if I'm just a **liar**. "Yeah," I manage, and I can't tell what I'm going to say. But I don't have to.

"Don't worry about it. Everything always works out for the best. Everything will be fine." I would **scoff**. It all depends on your view of the **best** and **fine**. But I don't **scoff**, and she pats my hand and pulls **away** like she's **older** than me. I must look too concerned, because she's staring at me now. I wish she'd **stop**.

She rubs her temples suddenly, standing up and bracing herself on the table. Her smile is tipsy and I think the alcohol is **getting to her**. I feel so short now, and I want to stand and prove my **height** once more. I do. 

"It'll get better," The smile grows more tainted. "Everything changes, so I'm sure it'll be fine." She's **repeating** herself now, saying everything she said before. I'm not **angry** with her, not yet. Were it years earlier maybe I would be, but it's impossible now. Still, my mouth opens to retort and I'm about to say something that'll get me in **trouble**. 

"Umi-san?" My sister speaks suddenly from the crack in the doorway. She looks so **worried**, and she talks to **her** but looks at me, and her eyes are asking me a question I'll never understand. "Your flight back to Cephiro is ready." But she doesn't hear her and turns back to me once more, speaking as though I really said **something**. 

"It'll get better, Tarta. Everyone and everything changes," It still looks and talks like Umi, but I hear more of the drink talking than I do her, "So it'll get better."

And now I really am** angry**, but it's not at **her**. She still hasn't moved, though she should leave first. I'm bleeding my lip out I'm **biting** it so hard. Why should I think it'll get **better** when it's been so **bad** all this time?

"No. No, it won't." I keep my voice steady and perfect and **normal**. And I'm out of the room as fast as I can walk, having to shoulder past my concerned sister. I can still feel her hurt eyes on my back after I turn the corner. I feel **guilty**. I **hate it**. But I'm a Princess, and Princesses don't cry. In **public**, at least.

don't even go into a room that far away. It figures I can still see the ship from the window, and I can't help looking at it as she goes out and 'nee-sama comes back. The doors shut and some part of me is **bleeding**, and I have to check to make sure that nothing gets on the windowpane.

I pretend not to hear someone knocking, but I know who it is because the door's opening now. I'm **praying** that it isn't 'nee-sama, absolutely **praying**. I don't care if it's a servant announcing **dinner** or a guard announcing an **invasion** or a ghost announcing that I'm **dead**. Just so long as it isn't **her**. But I'm right and it is and she has the indecency to come in and **bug me. **

"Do you want to talk?" She always asks the same thing. I haven't wanted to **talk** since I was **ten years old**. But I can only shake my head. "Alright," she breathes out, barely having to whisper because that's just her way. "I'll go get us some tea or something, then." I let out what I wish is an **exasperated** sigh. I pretend to **hate** it when she does that, but I really love her tea. It shows how much she **cares**.

And just like that she's gone, so unlike how I thought she'd be. I didn't even bother **looking** at her, of course. I was too busy looking out the **window** at the damn ship. And I'm still looking at it. 

It turns and skids, trying to find traction in the bare ground. And somehow, I think just to **spite me**, it manages to take off. And I'm **still** looking at it, and part of me **always** will.

  


It's spitting up **dust**

_it's midnight and they're playing   
what used to be our song.   
back when we still used to think   
we knew the world.   
but now you seem to know   
you've figured it out. _

maybe you have and I haven't. 

  
  
  


End Notes: Accents kill. Look, surprise people -_-''...not that it was much of a surprise. I mean, who else uses Osaka-ben and has a sister named Tatra, and what other Magic Knight that is not the girl who would have been Pillar or the one in love with the Prince is there besides Umi? Eeek...Tarta gets gypped. No attention whatsoever. Of course, I'm quite sure this isn't the Tarta we all know and love, either. To me, she didn't seem OOC _or_ IC, simply unknown. Sure, she doesn't hop up and down, yell, or get annoyed at every little thing, but this is like, five years after the second series. How do we know how she'd act in a situation like this, because she was never _put_ in such a situation. Of course, aforementioned situation can be scary. Believe me, I've been in it. So I suppose the story's a bit of exploration into the unknown. She _has_ always struck me as a slightly unstable girl, so I guess I almost wrote this to prove something to myself. Or not. Whatever. As stated above, this was completely random, and it is really weird and just…twisted in an almost fluffy way. I hope I didn't scare too many of you folks into hiding under your beds. 

Until next time, hugs and kisses. xoxo

~Eyespye


End file.
